


Irish Reel/Horizontal Mambo

by Sid



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Propositions, Slash, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sid/pseuds/Sid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Irish Reel' was written for a prompt on the LJ comment_fic community: Jack/Daniel/Cameron, fishing trips</p>
<p>The sequel, 'Horizontal Mambo', was written for a Porn Battle XI prompt (but didn't make the deadline.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irish Reel/Horizontal Mambo

**Irish Reel**

Cam was slightly plastered, and he was definitely plastered up against General O’Neill. He heard Sam’s laugh out in her kitchen, where she was probably telling Jackson, the birthday boy, what had just happened. Cam had been having a nice time dancing with Sam, but he’d been in no position to protest when O’Neill tapped his shoulder and said, “May I cut in?”

Cam had dropped his arms away from Sam, stepped back and smiled, right before getting one of the bigger shocks of his life when O’Neill took his hand, pulled him close with his other arm, and said, “I’ll lead.”

O’Neill led and Cam followed, stumbling only a little.

“You enjoy fishing, Mitchell?”

“Ah, yes. Sure. I used to do quite a lot of it back home.”

“Ever been to Minnesota? Best fishing in the world.” O’Neill executed a tricky step. “Any number of worlds, actually.”

“I’m sure you’re right, sir.” Cam congratulated himself on keeping up with the general, who had obviously spent quite a lot of time on the dance floor over the course of his career. O’Neill probably had all the Washington ladies in a dither. “I’ll bet you get invited to all the swankiest parties,” he said without thinking. Ah, damn alcohol. Always loosened his tongue. He glanced at O’Neill and practically saw the light bulb coming on.

O’Neill swept Cam into a series of turns that left him a little breathless. “I’m not as rusty as I used to be,” he acknowledged with a certain degree of smugness. “But back to my question.”

“Oh, Minnesota? I guess I’ve been in the Minneapolis - St. Paul airport a few times; not that that counts.”

“You’ve got downtime at the end of the month. Made any plans?” O’Neill changed directions.

“Wh… no, none yet. Sir.”

“Daniel’s meeting me at my place in Minnesota.” A new song began to play. O’Neill slowed his steps and placed his hands on Cam’s hips, setting up a swaying motion. “You should come along.”

Dazed, Cam didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, but it didn’t seem to matter. They’d taken on a will of their own and were sliding up O’Neill’s chest to rest on his shoulders. “For the fishing?”

O’Neill leaned closer. “There’ll be a whole lot of good fishing. Among other things.” His left thumb was rubbing along Cam’s hipbone.

“Parcheesi?” Cam guessed, his voice cracking on the last syllable.

O’Neill snorted in his ear and turned away slightly.

Cam followed O’Neill’s line of sight. Jackson stood in the doorway, mouth half-open, tongue pressed against his lower lip. The naked lust in his eyes sent a shiver running through Cam.

O’Neill felt it; his hands dug into Cam’s hips. “Hey, Daniel, is Parcheesi more fun with three?”

Jackson’s slow smile was filled with promise. “Oh, most things are.”

Cam was convinced of it.

~~~~

**Horizontal Mambo**

It wasn’t exactly what Cam had been expecting, although to be accurate he hadn’t had any _real_ idea what to expect when General O’Neill invited him to his cabin. Other than the clearly hinted at sex, that is. Here he was, and the sex was hot and the fishing was pointless, the company was excellent and the weather was great. And he could understand how Jackson and O’Neill would need some time together alone, so he sat out on the little pier with a cooler full of beer at his feet and a pointless fishing rod at his side and soaked up some sunshine for a couple of hours.

He was pretty sure they weren’t having sex without him. For one thing, he didn’t think O’Neill would be up for it yet. Not that he seemed to have any particular trouble getting or maintaining an erection. Cam half-wondered whether his presence was being helpful with that, if that was part of the reason why he’d been invited to the cabin. He was definitely beginning to suspect the _main_ reason he’d been invited.

But anyway, what with all the sex they’d been having, he was pretty sure O’Neill wouldn’t really be capable of or interested in _more_. The two of them must be just talking, or cuddling, or napping. He smiled. Couple stuff. It was a wonder more people weren’t on to them, because they were so much in love with each other that it was hard to miss. He hadn’t had all that much occasion to witness their interactions before now, but, jeez, Sam and Teal’c had to know!

But even with their devotion to each other … all right, hell, maybe _because_ of it, they had opened up their relationship to include him. To some extent. Maybe there had been others, too, before him. A whole long line of….

Cam frowned and took a lengthy gulp of his beer. He was _welcome_ here: well-treated, getting laid, getting off, getting petted and caressed and fucked and sucked. So he didn’t get to share in all the jokes, and there were looks he couldn’t interpret. And he was kinda sure he was being used. Still. More good than bad. He drank some more. There was no bad.

He heard the screen door open and shut behind him. “Are you bringing me more beer?” he said loudly. He heard Jackson’s laugh. Seconds later a hand squeezed his shoulder.

Jackson sat down in the nearer of the other chairs. “If you’re really out we can shout at Jack to bring some.”

Cam kicked at the cooler. “Still got a couple. Want one?”

“Not right now,” Jackson replied.

They sat in silence for a while.

“So,” Jackson said, awkwardly.

Cam’s heart sank. “Does he want me to leave?”

“What? No! What?”

Cam shrugged.

“Mitchell, we’re both happy that you’re here. I’m…” Jackson waved a hand, “here to find out how you feel about how things are going.”

“General O’Neill asked you to?” Cam asked softly.

“Sure,” Jackson answered slowly. “We both… well, we’re both sort of your hosts, and we know that you might not…” he paused to exhale, “might not be getting everything you expected, or want out of this. We want to make sure you’re okay with… with the way things are.”

Cam smacked the arm of his chair with his palm. “You’re here to check and see if I’m okay with being a hole to fuck?” He wanted to take it back the second he said it.

Jackson was out of his chair and crouching in front of Cam in an instant, shoving the cooler out of his way impatiently. “Please don’t think that, not for a minute.”

“You’re both tops. You need a third, a bottom. I’m it this time around.”

“No!” Jackson shouted. His voice echoed around them, and Jackson shot a glance at the cabin. “Mitchell, listen to me.”

“No, I get it. I’ve got no reason to complain. Nothin’ to complain about.”

“ _Listen_ ,” Jackson repeated insistently. “I’m not going to deny that we hoped you would be willing to bottom, or that we’re not thrilled that you are. I’d like to point out, though, that we didn’t exactly ask you that up front, did we?”

Cam frowned at him.

“Jack didn’t say, “Oh, please do come to my cabin, but only if you’re willing to take it up the ass”, did he?”

Cam shook his head unwillingly.

“No. We like the way things turned out, but it wasn’t a fucking _requirement_.”

Cam snorted. “Want to rephrase that?”

Jackson smacked Cam’s knee.

“So what if I’d said no? What if you got me here and I turned out to be the unwanted third top?”

“Oh, please,” Jackson said with a smirk. “Jack and I are pretty much the experts on having the best sex possible with two tops. Three would only make it better.”

Cam blinked, then shook his head. “You would have been disappointed; don’t even say you wouldn’t.”

“True. Disappointed, but not upset. We didn’t choose you because you looked like someone who might let us fuck you, but because you were someone we both wanted to fuck.” Jackson peered up at him intently. “Do you see the difference?”

“Yeah, I see the difference,” Cam replied shortly.

“You don’t,” Jackson sighed.

“Explain it to me then.”

“ _You_ float both our boats,” Jackson answered, tossing his head in the direction of O’Neill’s rowboat. “Plus – and it’s a big plus – we trust you. We’re attracted to you, we can be ourselves around you without watching every word we say. This is… this is nearly impossible, you know? I know you know.”

“But what if I’d said no?”

“Oh,” Jackson said quietly, brows drawing in. “Are you saying ‘no’ now? You can always….”

“Look,” Cam said. “I’m not feeling put upon, or tricked, or coerced. Or anything.”

“Maybe left out?”

Cam bit his lip. “That’s not fair. Anyone would feel….”

“We _know_.” Jackson jiggled Cam’s knee. “That’s why I’m _talking_ to you. We want this to be as good for you as we can make it.”

“That’s… real nice.”

Jackson laughed. “We want you to want to come back! We….”

Cam shook himself and put a finger to Jackson’s lips. “Whoa! You don’t have to say anything else.” He took his finger away and grinned. “We’re good.”

Looking pleased, Jackson rose gracefully to his feet. “Come inside, then. Jack’s waiting.”

Cam got up from his chair.

Jackson put a hand on Cam’s back as he steered him towards the cabin. “We figured you might be getting a little sore, so we’re planning on giving your ass a break.”

“Jackson, you silver-tongued devil! I’m all a-flutter, here.” Which he actually kinda _was_. 

Jackson’s hand slid up Cam’s back and cupped around his neck. “Want to watch Jack fuck me?”

Cam stumbled to a halt. “I thought… I thought you didn’t….”

“Once in a while we do,” Jackson murmured. “One of us bottoms, once in a while.”

“That’s nice,” Cam breathed, cock swelling at the thought of just how nice it was.

“Just for each other,” Jackson cautioned.

“No! I wasn’t… I get that.” Cam swallowed. “Have you ever let anyone watch before?”

“Not this, no. Not this.” Jackson got the two of them moving again. “And don’t get the idea that we do this sort of thing all that often.” He opened the screen door. “You’re only the second person we’ve let in.”

Cam blinked at him in the dimmer light of the cabin. “Seriously?”

“Seriously!” O’Neill called from the bedroom.

“You don’t even know what the question was!” Jackson called back.

Cam laughed.

Jackson grinned at him. “Come on. Jack’s going to show us both a good time.”

“This just might kill me,” Cam warned, moving quickly towards the master bedroom.

“I think you’ll survive. Well. Hello, Jack.”

“Hello.” O’Neill was sprawled on his back on the bed, erect, wearing a condom and glistening with lube.

Cam took back everything he’d been thinking about O’Neill’s recuperative powers. The man was a _stallion_. “Jackson, get your ass on that bed!” he snapped, prickles of heat springing into being all over his body.

“Thank you, Mitchell,” O’Neill said with a crooked smile. “He’s such a pain.”

“You like me that way,” Jackson protested mildly. He was stripping as he spoke.

“You, too,” O’Neill said to Cam, waving a finger at him. “Don’t lollygag.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, sir.” Cam stripped in record time, and was on the bed just a few seconds after Jackson.

“Watch and learn, Mitchell,” O’Neill said, his hands guiding Jackson onto his back.

“Watch, don’t touch?” Cam asked, settling in for the show.

“Oh, you can touch,” Jackson said, sounding surprised. “Especially yourself; am I right, Jack?”

“Especially, but not limited to.” O’Neill was coating his hand with lube. He eyed Cam’s cock and handed the tube to him. “Slick up, there.”

Cam slicked up his right palm and wrapped his hand around his cock, which was acting as eager as if it were part of the main show. _Down, boy_ , he told it. Damned if he was going to be the one who came first. But then, as he watched O’Neill’s glistening middle finger begin a slow disappearance up Jackson’s butt and felt a powerful jolt to his balls, he realized that he just might be damned after all.

Jackson’s eyes were closed, but not tightly. There was tension in his body, though.

O’Neill laid his other hand on Jackson’s stomach and rubbed softly. “Nice and easy.”

“Always is,” Jackson replied, relaxing a little bit. “This part I like.”

Cam realized Jackson had to be talking to him, because O’Neill must already know what parts – _exactly_ what parts – Jackson liked. What was it like to know a partner that well? He considered what he knew about Jackson, as O’Neill continued to stroke up into him with one, then two fingers.

Jackson murmured something that might or might not have been in English.

O’Neill bent over and blew a raspberry against Jackson’s stomach.

Cam laughed. O’Neill liked to be playful in bed, he’d learned that much. And O’Neill brought that out a little in Jackson, too, who wasn’t exactly being serious to begin with. They were sort of like toys for each other, but toys that could cooperate or have a mind of their own. Of course Cam wasn’t seeing them under stressful conditions. Lord knew there had to have been a lot of times when one or both of them was lost, suffering, weary. Things were undoubtedly very different between them then.

They knew each other inside and out, literally, but… well, when one changed the other one probably did too? Change inevitably happened to people. If Jackson lost a leg, O’Neill would compensate. If Jackson lost his _mind_ , O’Neill would take whatever crazy trip he had to right along with him. Cam reached out and put his left hand on O’Neill’s shoulder.

O’Neill glanced at him and then, satisfied by whatever he saw, put all his attention back on Jackson.

Cam gave O’Neill’s shoulder a squeeze and dropped his hand, feeling a little embarrassed. He found Jackson had opened his eyes and was looking at Cam quizzically. Cam gave his head a tiny shake. “Nothin’. Just havin’ a moment.”

Jackson’s eyelids quivered. “Hey – me, too.” He sounded out of breath, and his face was flooding with color.

“Glad to hear it.” O’Neill shifted on his knees.

Jackson bent his left leg, resting the outside of his foot on the bed and letting his knee sag over towards Cam.

Cam’s cock jumped in his hand. He made a sound in his throat and began stroking Jackson’s inner thigh.

O’Neill bent over and licked up the underside of Jackson’s rigid cock. His hair brushed the back of Cam’s knuckles.

Jackson squirmed and blinked rapidly, inhaling.

O’Neill straightened and withdrew his fingers, making Jackson moan.

Cam’s ass clenched in sympathy.

O’Neill snagged the towel draped on the headboard and wiped his fingers before replacing it.

Jackson was staring up at O’Neill, and Cam couldn’t help but think that he looked like a man who was dying to get fucked. “You don’t exactly hate this,” Cam said, wincing a little as the words left his mouth.

Jackson and O’Neill both turned their heads to look at him.

“Sorry. Stupid thing to say.” Cam patted Jackson’s thigh apologetically. “What do I know?”

O’Neill snorted.

“I don’t exactly hate _Jack_.”

Cam supposed that those soft words maybe really did say it all.

O’Neill lowered his head and gave Jackson a lingering kiss. “And I don’t exactly hate hearing that.” They looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds.

Cam licked his lips.

O’Neill gave Cam a heated look. “You’re okay, too.”

That felt like a cue, so Cam leaned up and collected a hard kiss of his own, with O’Neill’s hand clasping the back of his neck while Jackson’s hands roamed through the hair on O’Neill’s chest.

“But back to the business at hand,” O’Neill muttered, releasing Cam.

“By all means.”

“Hang onto that leg,” O’Neill directed him.

“Yep. Got it.” Cam gripped the back of Jackson’s knee.

“Right leg up?”

Jackson bent his right leg. 

O’Neill scooped it up and draped it over his left shoulder. “Roll up,” he directed tautly, bracing himself on his left arm and taking his cock in his right hand.

Cam felt Jackson’s leg push against his hand as Jackson exerted his muscles and lifted his ass a few inches.

O’Neill leaned into the leg across his shoulder, and Cam, seeing that, pushed against the back of Jackson’s left thigh. Jackson’s ass was high and open then, and Cam could see O’Neill’s target, and then he couldn’t, because it was blocked by O’Neill’s condom-covered cock. Rubbing. Pressing. “Goddamn,” Cam whispered.

Jackson whined. O’Neill was sliding in. Cam knew what that felt like. Not too wide and a mile long. It probably felt plenty wide to Jackson, though. His eyes were certainly wide, and a fiercer blue than Cam had ever seen them.

O’Neill’s right hand settled onto the bed beside Cam, and he shifted over Jackson’s body, rolling his hips. 

Jackson’s head pushed back into the pillow. He fumbled a hand up to O’Neill’s face. “Kiss me,” he gasped.

“Break one of our backs,” O’Neill objected. He turned his head and planted a kiss on Jackson’s palm.

Jackson dropped his hand, ran it over his chest, rubbed at his nipples. Bit his lip. “Kiss me,” he said again, in an almost completely different tone of voice, his eyes never leaving O’Neill’s face.

“Sure thing,” Cam said. “Soon’s I work out the logistics here….” He took his right hand off his cock and grabbed the towel dangling over the headboard to wipe off some of the lube before clutching Jackson’s shoulder for leverage. He shimmied up the bed and over to the side, putting his hand on the top of Jackson’s head. When Jackson’s head arched off the pillow towards him, Cam slid his hand underneath and made a fist to hold it up.

They were kissing, and Cam couldn’t help but smile around Jackson’s tongue. Topping from the bottom, but with tongue and lips. Jackson’s right hand came up to hold Cam firmly in place.

Cam squirmed closer, and gasped as his cock slid over Jackson’s hip and landed in the slot between Jackson’s thigh and belly. Jackson obviously felt it. There was no other reason he would be laughing into Cam’s mouth, and since O’Neill’s pace remained slow and steady, there really wasn’t any other reason for Jackson to press his left leg closer to his chest.

Cam spoke wordlessly with his tongue against Jackson’s. The hand holding him tightened.

Oh, God, oh God. That was O’Neill’s hip just barely kissing the tip of Cam’s cock each time he thrust into Jackson. Cam wanted to thrust, too, but all he could do was pull Jackson’s leg up a little more and press closer.

Jackson’s right hand still held Cam’s mouth to his. His left hand, hampered by Cam’s weight on his arm, was pumping his own cock.

Cam felt O’Neill’s tongue lick a stripe up his shoulder. He felt every jolt of O’Neill’s body entering Jackson’s. O’Neill’s hip bumped, bumped, bumped Cam’s cock, held tightly against Jackson. Cam wiggled his left arm further under Jackson’s thigh and opened his hand, laid it against O’Neill’s flank.

Jackson’s breath hitched, and O’Neill changed the pace and angle of his thrusts. 

Cam wasn’t getting that sweet bump against his cock any more, but when Jackson pulled his mouth away, gasping for air, and released his grip on Cam’s head, Cam was able to shift up onto his elbow and begin some thrusting of his own. O’Neill was nearly close enough to kiss from this raised position, but he was intent on Jackson, or his own orgasm, or both. Cam pressed upwards anyway and dragged his lips over O’Neill’s cheek, rough with stubble and salty-sweet.

Jackson grunted, and Cam watched, wide-mouthed, as he came, coating his belly and hand.

“Yeah,” O’Neill said.

The satisfaction, love, heat, pride and lust in his voice kicked Cam over the precipice. “Fuck, fuck.” With his last thrust against Jackson’s thigh, he knew his come was hitting both men, and it made him come all the harder, calling out.

He collapsed after that, his head landing high on Jackson’s shoulder, from where he had a close-up view of Jackson’s smooth, heaving chest. Cam was gasping for air himself, pressed up so closely against Jackson’s leg and arm that there was no room to breathe. The leg was heavier now that Jackson had started in doing a good impression of a rag doll, and Cam was barely up to the task of holding it in place. He could ask O’Neill to take over, but he didn’t think right now would actually be a good time to interrupt him.

O’Neill’s face was red and he was grunting steadily. His movements were still smooth and powerful. He’d fool you that way, Cam had learned. It was only in the last seconds that his rhythm would stutter, almost like he’d forget what he was doing, and his mouth would drop open like he was surprised….

Jackson hummed and stretched out his left arm towards O’Neill.

His hand disappeared from Cam’s view. He was touching O’Neill, his fingertips touching O’Neill’s cock as it entered and left his body. Cam watched O’Neill’s eyelids droop.

Jackson sighed.

O’Neill’s hips stuttered, his jaw dropped, his eyes closed. “Ah!”

O’Neill was coming. Jackson’s body shook with O’Neill’s spasms and thrusts and Cam rode out the vibrations cocooned in a warm haze of contentment.

When it was all over, Jackson got his legs down and his feet on the bed, and O’Neill slumped forward, still buried in Jackson, cradled in his thighs. He rested his head on the opposite shoulder from Cam. “Gimme a minute,” he mumbled.

Jackson ruffled his hair. “You’re not that heavy.”

All Cam could see of O’Neill’s face was his tired smile.

“You’re not heavy either.”

“Thanks,” Cam replied. He yawned, gave his head a shake and sat up. “I’ve gotta get rid of some beer, though.”

Jackson waved his arm and let it fall heavily. “We’ll be right here.”

Cam chuckled and headed for the bathroom.

“Hurry back,” O’Neill said lazily.

“I will, sir.”

Just as he was shutting the bathroom door, Cam heard O’Neill call out, “And bring a washcloth!”


End file.
